Just Like Your Father
by Yuna Karasu
Summary: It's getting really dark and Harry's secret is sinking into the background of an imminent war. There are so many questions. Where did Snape go and who destroyed his office? How did dumbeldore die? What was going to happen to Harry, Ron and Hermione?
1. Harry's Secret

Disclaimer: I do not know J.K. Rowling nor have I created any of her characters, places, or descriptions. They are entirely licensed to her and I have no part in profits or otherwise. I have not plagiarized any parts of her book and am creating a completely separate plot line all my own, borrowing the characters. 

"That git," Harry announced to his friends, Hermione and Ron, as they walked from the dungeons to the divination room. "He gave me a T on my essay about Sleeping Draughts." Hermione bit her pink lip, and looked at the ground as Ron agreed with the green-eyed boy wholeheartedly. They both looked at her, surprised by her silence and almost taken aback that she had not concurred with them about their most hated Professor, Snape.

"Well, I'm quite happy with my grade," She said quickly to justify herself. " I got an O on mine for truth potions." She stopped as she heard Ron mumble under his breath 'show off', because he had also gotten a "T" on his paper. She swept a lock of bushy brown hair from view of her cinnamon eyes before continuing. "I think he has just begrudged you, Harry."

"What about me," Ron protested at the lack of his name being mentioned. Harry Ignored his plea to be noticed and answered Hermione.

"He can't give me bad grades because he doesn't like me, can he?" Hermione shrugged making an apparently-he-can face. "He really has no reason to dislike me in the first place, except for maybe the house I'm in." Harry said sarcastically as he rolled his green eyes. 

"You do remember how your father treated him, don't you? That's probably why. He just hates your whole family." Ron smirked at this conclusion.

"That makes it much better Ron." Smiled Harry, now somewhat less frustrated than he had been. Ron's smile made Harry laugh softly. 

The trio had finally come to the silver ladder that reached the divination room. Hermione had continued on to Arithmacy, but Harry and Ron ascended into the classroom, finding seats in the far corner. The room was clouded with incense, which furled to the ceiling in big elaborated waves. Professor Trelawney floated from the shadow as more and more Students flooded into the room, and as usual was wearing her incredibly large glasses and several chattering shawls. Her large eyes traveled the room, surveying every student. Harry sighed and relaxed himself in the cushioned chair, feeling quite relieved that this was his last class until Occlumency later tonight. Dumbledore was going to be giving him lessons tonight. 

The feeling of ease continued on into dinner and he did rather well with his lessons, and even when Harry had entered the common room to find a grueling training schedule for Quidditch on the post board. He found his favorite chair by the fire and waited for Hermione to arrive back from the library and Ron from upstairs in the dormitories. A big ginger ball purred loudly as it curled its body around Harry's leg and eventually jumped and nestled into his lap. 

Harry watched the flames dance in to fireplace as he scratched behind the ears of the cat. The noise in the background of the room seemed to fade away into nothing and Harry's eyes closed as he thought. His mind began to wander over the day, slowing tripping from reality and into fantasy. He dreamed that Snape had spilled a pot of boiling Flobbertuber Puss on himself and broke out in a series of blisters. He dreamed that Malfoy on the slytherin Quidditch team had fallen from his broom, while Harry caught the snitch in a great victory. He also dreamed that he heard Ron screaming his name over and over, but not in pain, in pleasure.

"Harry. HARry! HARRY!" Ron's hands were on Harry's shoulders and he was shaking him awake. Harry's eyes shot open and he was staring into Ron's twinkling deep blue ones.

"Get off, will you." Said Harry as he pushed Ron back off his shoulders. The remnants of Harry's daydream still lingered in certain areas of his anatomy. He quickly let his hands fall to his lap, to notice Crookshanks was long gone. 

"Oi! What the matter with you?!" Said Ron as he stepped back and sat on the floor a little disappointed. 

"I'm sorry Ron. You just startled me. Why did you wake me?" Harry's eyes wondered over Ron with a deep precision as firelight struck his red hair, and brought it to life. 

"I wanted to tell you that Fred and George sent us a box of puking pastilles, and some chocolate frogs. I can't believe their joke shop is doing so well." Harry was only half listening to Ron, but more surveying his features. Harry's pants began to become restrictive and his face flushed with heat.

"What's the matter Harry?" Said Ron with a knowing smirk. "Are you thinking of Cho again?" Harry smiled distantly at his oblivious friend. 

"Yeah." He answered with the same distant smile." That's exactly what it is. I Think I'd better go up to bed, before this gets too out of hand." He stood up and pulled at the crotch of his pants.

"Yeah, You'd better get to the dormitory before Hermione sees that." Ron smiled again and looked at the fire in reminiscence." She'll have a bloody fit." Harry walked From Ron managing a weak 'goodnight' before he disappeared down the dormitory stairs. "Cho" he laughed to himself as he trudged up the steps.

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Harry awoke with and odd sensation riveting through his body the next morning. He felt as is his body was completely awake, yet his mind wasn't. He had dreamed, but any memory of it was now fleeting quickly into the day's reality.

He looked beside him and saw Ron sleeping peacefully, as were Dean and Seamus. Rays of sun were hitting the floor in front of the window, but there was an odd outline that caused Harry to dart his eyes up quickly. On the sill stood a brown and white barn owl, with a roll of parchment fastened to his leg. Harry watched it flutter its wings and float over to his bed, landing softly between his knees. 

"This couldn't wait for the morning post?" he whispered aloud. The owl stuck out its leg impatiently and Harry had no choice, but to read the letter. He untied the knot slowly as not to hurt the little feather ball, gave it a knut, and watched it fly away happily. 

He slowly opened the parchment, filled with excitement that it might be from Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Or even Sirius. That was shot down quickly when he remembered what had happened. Still after all these months he was unable to cope with it. He unrolled the parchment dully, and spread it so that he could read it:

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Dear Mr. Potter,

Although I am very displeased to announce it, you will no longer be reporting to Dumbledore for your Occlumency lessons. I would be most appreciative if we do not have a reoccurrence of last time, because I rarely even give second chances much less third. You will be pleased to know that it will only last for several weeks, during Dumbledore's short absence from Hogwarts. You are to report directly to my office after lessons every day of the weak, except Sundays and on Thursdays when you are required at your nasty Quidditch practice.

Professor Severus Snape.

Harry had recognized the handwriting almost immediately and the feelings of dread once again filled him. Occlumency with Snape again? How terrible will this be?

He had to go again, to his most hated professor, so that he could have his mind read. Surely if Snape saw the daydream he had had about Ron last evening by the fire, the whole school would be know that Harry "preferred his kind." He knew how Ron would react. He could just see it. "Eww, Harry thas nasty. My Mom says that I should keep my distance." He would lose all his friends, his reputation, and his popularity. Hermione would try to fix him, looking up different personality altering spells, and that would be an embarrassment all in itself. So bad, in fact, that he couldn't imagine it at the moment. 

He shuddered. Even worse, Snape would know. He would relentlessly make references to Harry's particular way of life. Often bashing him in class, much to the delight of Malfoy and his cronies. They would all laugh, until they cried. 

He shook their laughing faces from his mind, and turned to see Ron stirring in the bed next to him. Quickly he crumpled up the parchment and threw it on top of the things in his trunk. Slowly he dressed in his robes and prepared for a long Saturday of dread and anxiety. Harry was really beginning to understand why Percy never wanted to talk about his choice of genders. 

Breakfast went exceptionally well, despite the fact that Snape kept throwing Harry nasty scowls. That was disregardable, though as Hermione started chattering away about S.P.E.W. and how she had received mail from new Members. Harry didn't really listen, but noticed when her and Ron got into a argument about how it should be pronounced. All Harry knew was that his and Ron's legs were touching, and his uncontrollable satyriasis was beginning to kick in. 

"Ron, ITS NOT SPEW, ITS S.P.E.W.!!!!" Hermione had the last say and ron sank into his seat, a piece of toast in hand. "Harry make him stop being such a git! He'll listent to you." 

"Ron, cut it out." Ron's mouth opened in that cute little 'what'd I do' face, and Harry looked away, and could have swore he heard somebody mumble 'spew' under their breath.

He didn't really care, he was too busy watching Snape make faces from his end of the table over to Harry. Snape looked away, and Harry hoped that he could overcome Snape today, so that he didn't see what Harry saw. 

For the rest of breakfast, both Ron and Hermione would not speak to one another. Harry didn't say much either, but was trying to control his ithyphallic. He didn't really care about those two and their trivial arguments. He was just waiting for them to ask one another out, so Harry could be left alone with his nagging lust for Ron. That way he could have no hope with it, and it could be left alone. He could just feel like plain old Harry again. And he didn't have to deny himself, telling Ron what he wanted to. 

He looked up to greet yet another cowl from the head table, and he turned his back and finished his breakfast without so much as a sigh. Tonight, and all of the other lessons were going to be miserable. He couldn't help but wonder though, Why couldn't Snape let go of his Grudge for Harry's father. What had he done so wrong, To deserve such ridicule from James and the others? It had to have been something important because Snape had not yet forgot it.

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So what'd You guys think? I know it was a little long and some of it was a little pointless, but I just couldn't figure out how to start it. Please R&R. Even Flames are appreciated. Any thoughts on how it could be made better are too. =)! Next chapter should be up tomorrow. Check for it!

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	2. Occlumency

Authors note: The disclaimer was on the first on and it is the last that I'm doing because I find it quite pointless to repeat myself and take up precious writing space. 

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The day hadn't gone particularly well, yet it hadn't gone particularly bad either. Harry had actually managed to get most all of his homework done without much interruption. His trepidation was now on his lessons with Snape. They were in less than an hour, and Harry was so apprehensive about going he actually thought he might not. 

He decided not to tell Hermione or Ron unless they questioned him about it. Harry was more content to just sit in the common room, and watch his friends carry on about their business. Hermione had finally pulled her hair back, as Harry always told her to, revealing a very feminine face that a few of the second years were staring at. She was knitting sweaters by the fire, and Harry was quite surprised to see that she had learned to make patterns.

Ron was reading a copy of the _Quibbler,_ whose biggest story was about Ron's favorite Quidditch team. Harry surveyed Ron's strong profile as his eyes twinkled, and his lips twitched lightly. The loudness in the background wasn't incredible, neither was the lack of speech between the three uncomfortable. 

"Harry, haven't you got Occlumency lessons tonight?" Hermione interjected the silence. "It's nearly six." Ron didn't move, but his eyes continued to scan the printed page of the magazine. 

"Yes, I have." Harry answered absentmindedly. " I had better get going." Harry gave Crookshanks a gentle push, and the startled cat jumped from his lap. Giving a big yawn, Harry stood and stretched, never taking his eyes off Ron's lying figure. 

"Wait up for me?" Harry looked at Hermione. She shook her head and Ron managed a weak 'yes' before Harry walked away. At least they would be there to hear him vent about Snape's mistreatment of him. 

With every step toward the dungeon, Harry had wished that he had a pensieve to get rid of his lustful daydreams, so that Snape couldn't reach them. He wasn't as worried now as he had been earlier because he had more confidence in the progress he had made with Dumbledore.

Maybe he could reach into Snape's memories this time instead. A little smile formed on his lips, but he still had a very uneasy feeling about all of it.

Snape was waiting in his office, with a scowl on his face. Harry put his eyes to the floor timidly as he entered.

"I want to do this as much as you Mr. Potter, " he stood up from behind the desk and gave Harry a gruesome look. "I'll ask you not to speak of last time."

Harry shook his head agreeingly, and stood before Snape's desk. His professor jet black eyes watched him in utter contemn. Harry could feel his skin crawling as he tried to look at everything, but Snape.

Harry thought Snape was intimidating in the classroom, but one on one it was much worse. Snape exuded so much power and hatred, that Harry was finding trouble keeping his hands still. 

"Shall we begin then?" Snape took out his wand and held it in the air. "One…Two…._Legilimen_s!"

Harry hadn't had a lot of time to clear his mind, but he rapidly did so and realized that he was in complete control. In his head he visualized a Blue bond between himself and Snape. Slowly he forsed the blue back into Snape and could see Memories flashing before him. They weren't his though.

The first image was that of a little boy crying to himself in a corner, as a tall black-haired man stood over a crying woman in complete rage. The second was that of a dark hooded figure, and Snape himself on the ground writhing, while laughter seeped from behind the hood. And the third was shocking, It was of Harry's father sitting alone below a tree by the lake. The sun was setting in the background and he could see Snape walking up the path. 

Suddenly Harry fell down as if a blunt object had struck him. He opened his eyes and Snape was leaning on his desk, with sweat dripping down his forehead. He clutched his wand in the other hand. He was panting loudly, as if he had put all his energy into fighting off Harry.

"Sir, are you all right?" Harry said weakly, more out of politeness than actual concern. He was actually happy that he did this to Snape. Harry smiled inwardly as he watched his professor run his hands through his greasy hair and try to regain his erect state and composure. 

"I'm fine boy!" Snape snapped, sounding quite offended. " I see you've progressed quite incredibly."

Harry hadn't moved from the ground, for fear of seeing a fury that was all Snape's. Harry's eyes lay on the black robed man, unmoving, barely even blinking. Their eyes met, and Harry shot his professor an arrogant smile. Snape just scowled behind a head full of greasy black hair, his lips allowed the sight if a few gritted teeth.

"Get up off the floor Potter!" Snape said angrily, his pallid complexion glowing in the flickering firelight. Harry realized that Snape was not angry because he was beaten, but because Harry had seen something that he was intended not too. Quickly Harry got to his feet and stood before the desk.

He watched as Snape reached for the pensive and set it on the table before him. The tip of his wand weaved through the black jungle of hair, and pulled a thin silver strand from his temple. Harry knew at once that it was the one of his father that Snape had removed. But why? Was it that embarrassing? Harry shrugged it off as Snape put the little bowl aside. 

"Shall we begin again? One….Two….._Legilimens"_ This time Harry hadn't gotten the chance to ready himself enough and was caught off guard when he started reliving his past memories.

A hundred dementors were attacking him in the quidditch pitch. He was flying high on the back of a thestral. He was watching Ron sleep. A little voice inside his head said 'Harry, you've got to fight it, before he sees.' 

Again the blue streak came up and Harry was forcing it back to Snape. Slowly he pushed it back to him and Harry could again see Snape's memories.

A young blonde woman was walking up to him, with a smile. He was clutching a dead body, and his hands were completely imbued in crimson blood. He was talking to Dumbledore in his office. His nude figure was slouched in the shower, and in his hands were gripping his own massive….

Harry had felt something strike him again, he fell backwards and narrowly missed a shelf full of glass jars. He opened his eyes and Snape was leaning over his desk, gasping and clutching his midsection. Harry blinked and stood to his feet quickly. Snape looked up at him.

"That'll be enough tonight potter." Snape looked utterly helpless. "You speak to no one of this, Do You Understand?" Harry shook his head in concurrence. "NOW LEAVE!"

Harry ran back to the common room at a breakneck pace. He was extremely happy to see Hermione sitting in the chair by the fire and Ron sprawled on the floor in front of it. She rolled her head to the side of the chair and smiled at him as he came to sit down. 

It was nearly eight o'clock when Harry had returned, but it felt much later. Harry plopped down on the chair with a slight confusion written across his face.

"How'd it go Harry?" Asked Ron as he propped his head up on his hand. Harry shrugged and settled back into his chair.

"Well it couldn't have gone too horribly, could it? After all you said you'd been progressing." Hermione insighted. Harry gave her a miserable look and she shot him a questioning glance.

"Tonight's were with Snape. Dirty git." The last two words he had mumbled quietly, but they were still quite discernable. Snape had seen Harry's memory of watching Ron sleep. He had also come quite close to seeing Harry's homosexual fantasy.

"Oh. What'd he do?" Asked Ron with a limited curiosity. Harry told the two about the entire session, not sparing a detail.

"Eww. You really saw that?!" said Hermione in a completely disgusted voice. Harry shook his head and tried to act nauseated by the fact that he had seen Snape masturbating. In all truth he wasn't. He actually was kind of turned on by it.

"I'm going to bed." Said Ron and Hermione mumbled in agreement. By that time the common room was quite empty, save for one or two studying seventh years. Harry followed Ron up the steps, glancing every once in a while at his muscular behind.

"Ahhh. That's really nasty Harry. Ahhh." Ron's sentence was stifled between two heart yawns. "I betcha Old Snape was really embarrassed that you saw him doing his duty, ya know? Ahhh. Boy I'm tired."

Harry changed into his sleep apparel quickly, whereas Ron just fell to bed in his robes. He snored loudly as Harry tucked himself into his covers.

Harry really couldn't believe that he saw Snape doing that. Out of all the people in the world he could never really picture Snape being exactly sexual. He always figured that it was lack of that created such a cranky heir about him. Then again, everyone has their needs. Not even magic can prevent or relieve that forever. 

Harry also wondered about His father's lone figure sitting below that tree, and being approached by Snape nonetheless. It all seemed well enough in that memory, Snape even wore somewhat of a smile. He found it quite odd that they seemed to be on speaking terms then. An aura of friendship surrounded that memory. How could it have gone so wrong?

Questions for another day he assumed and closed his heavy eyelids. He fell into sleep thinking about Snape walking toward his father, completely in the nude and grasping something in front of him.

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The Sunday was quite uneventful. Harry had completed all of his homework quite early which let him and Ron go to the Quidditch pitch to practice before the actual one began. 

When he and Ron had finally entered the common room, Hermione had left for the library. They decided not to chase her, but to instead play a game of wizard's chess. That managed to consume about an hour, but the two were left bored when it was over.

They sat about, until Hermione stumbled in, her tiny figure laden with heavy books. She paid not the slightest bit of attention to them as she poured over the books at the table. Every so often she would mumble something, and pick up her quill to record a figure or two.

Before long, both Harry and Ron wondered down to the pitch for practice. Angelina was already giving a steady lecture on how the slytherins acquired a new keeper, so they were going to practice hard on offense for their upcoming match in the following week. 

The practice went fairly well considering they had no beaters that day, because they were serving a fierce set of detentions for Mcgonagall. Both Harry and Ron sauntered back to the Gryffindor tower, for their showers. Hermione was still pouring over her books and Harry was in no mood to talk so he just went right off to an early bed. 

Tomorrow would be a new day and he would have to face Occlumency lessons with Snape. On the plus side, he had no potions the following day, so he would only have to see old snivellus once. 

He drifted to sleep, without another worry…..

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So what'd you guys think of chapter two? It was a little longer, but it gave more clues as to whats going on. And I say that as if my summary didn't, HA! Please R&R. Again, flames are welcome if you see fit. Its all constructive here =). I will try for another chapter tomorrow or the next day, so check for em please =). 


	3. Snape's Discovery

Author's note: I'm trying to turn this out as fast as possible, but my internet blew out for two weeks and another major setback was that I have done a very stupid thing by not making even an outline. If you guys have any suggestions on where this should go, please review me or e-mail me because it's the job of the writer to make the reading experience enjoyable. =).

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The morning came quicker than Harry had anticipated and he was completely dreading his Occlumency lessons with Snape. From the time he woke up, he knew that nothing he did today would have anything to do with propriety. He had the greatest urge to just eat the entire bag of puking pastilles and spending his day sick in the care of Madam Pompey. 

That idea quickly fleeted. Something about vomiting uncontrollably for the entire day seemed unappealing to Harry, but what made double potions and "remedial potions" more intriguing, he never really did know. 

He slowly drew up his sheets, followed closely by the red quilt. In a quick glance, he made sure that it was all evenly spread and retreated to the front of his trunk. 

He was up considerably earlier than all of his roommates, so he decided that a warm shower would be a soothing way to start the day and would take some of the chill from the crisp morning. Gathering up all he needed, he made way for the showers, glancing at Ron as he passed the bed.

He let the warm water run down his back, before sinking his head below the jet. His hands wandered his body without the soap first, then he made the addition, and lather bubbled up all over the tan flesh of his midsection. He titillated himself, as the scent of the soapy foam enthralled him. To Harry, the water was an incredibly sensual thing, and a view of Ron came into his head.

Harry shivered involuntarily when he saw a vision of his best friend standing nude before him. A glorious nudity, that he envisioned to be so beautiful, that it glowed with light. Harry could barely help touching himself. He ran his full-fisted hand up and down, slower at first and then faster and faster.

He could feel the muscles in his abdomen tensing, and his legs were becoming weaker beneath him. Flush riveted through his entire body, making the skin run hot and prickle. He was very soon to reach ecstasy.

This wasn't the first time he had done this to the thought of his friends beautiful nude form. He had always been alone while he was doing it though, always by himself. He wished for just once that the object of his almost insatiable desire would join him. 

He was almost at the apex of his pleasure when another sight came into his head, and it was the memory that he had seen at lessons the night before. Snape's hunched body, below a jet of water, one hand working furiously while the other propped him to the wall. 

A flare of excitement rushed through Harry's body, and he let out a little gasp as he came. His face contorted to an open mouthed, but silent moan. Then he hunched to the wall, and closed his eyes and panted. How incredible it felt to be pushed over the edge, with the image of someone you hate. 

In transfiguration Harry had decided that that was one of the better orgasms he had at his own hands. He wondered if it was because it was Snape, but eventually came to the conclusion that the possibility of that was quite slim. After all, he did hate Snape, right?

"Mr. Potter! Are you paying attention?" Mcgonagall roared at Harry. He looked up and saw her face contorted with irritability. He glanced sideways and saw Hermione giving him a puzzled expression. "Mrs. Granger isn't going to answer for you."

"Sorry." Harry didn't feel like having a row at that moment. He was preoccupied with his own troubles.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Maybe next time you'll pay more attention, or else it will be a detention for you Mr. Potter." Harry sank into his seat and tried his hardest to look as if he was hanging on Mcgonagall's every word, but couldn't help but to drift off again.

"And so, if you are successful in the transformation of your….." Harry couldn't seem to understand why turning a rat into a place setting was going to help him. He looked over again and saw that Hermione was fascinated and sitting on the edge of her seat, while Ron was as slunk as he was. Mcgonagall demonstrated several times that period, but the lesson was just as completely uninteresting as his history of magic class.

Lunch came quickly, but not to a relief. Hermione and Ron had had an argument and were not speaking to one another. Harry was afraid to speak to either of them, because they might accuse him of taking sides. Lavender and Parvati would giggle occasionally, while Dean and Seamus were enthralled in their copy of The Daily Prophet. Overall the great hall was rather quiet, save for the Slytherin table where Draco had decided to tell jokes. Every so often the table would break out it fits of laughter, while Pansy hung all over Malfoy. It was a gut wrenching sight. 

After lunch was Potions. Harry was rather happy about the fact that Snape had ignored his existence. He kept catching himself staring at Snape's greasy hair and wondered if he had washed it in his entire lifetime. Then he came to contemplate that memory where Snape was approaching his father under that tree. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was an important moment in the relationship between his father and the greasy git standing at the blackboard.

He wanted to know what happened terribly, but doubted he would ever get the chance.

"Neville, ten points! Your clumsiness is going to fail you out of my class this year!" Snape pointed his wand at the mess of ingredients on the floor, muttered and it was gone. Neville was turning red with embarrassment and you could hear Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy chattering and chortling in intervals.

Why did Snape have to be a complete, for lack of a better word, asshole? Harry hated the way he acted like his ass end had a horrible encounter with a broomstick. He was always so completely uptight and everyone around him had to pay for. No wonder why no one liked him enough to be around him, what a burden. 

Instead of leaving after lessons, Harry just stayed in the classroom. After several minutes of silence and a few curious scowls from his professor, he pulled out a copy of _Defensive Spells for Dummies _and began to read it like he was interested. Hermione had given it to him for his birthday, but he didn't know what to do with it other than look at the pictures. It was written in a very boring style, and it made Harry tired ever time he tried to read it. 

"Why are you dawdling in my classroom, Mr. Potter?" Snape said nastily, his pallid face glowing with the light from the window. It must have been some kind of moon-sun complex because the light hit his face and he just reflected it back in a strange silvery way. 

"I just thought that I'd wait until Occlumency." Harry saw a glint in Snape's eye. It was just a flash of something, but Harry was sure that it was that of a opportunistic Snape ready to pounce on the idea of torturing Harry. 

Spending the dwindling half an hour with Snape was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but he just had so little energy that it didn't make much of a difference. Snape fell silent. Harry did as well, but there was a tension building in the room. It was becoming an uncomfortable silence, which didn't come as a surprise to Harry, but he couldn't help but wonder if speech between them would be any better. So, he didn't talk.

"Shall we begin?" Snape's cold eyes looked upon him and he shuttered. "Is something wrong or repulsive?" Snape's words were cold and aggravated, hinting at an insulted demeanor.

"Nothing, is wrong." Harry said nastily, feeling quite guilty afterward. Why was he so nasty anyway? Well, there was perfect justification for that. After all, Snape was completely nasty to him. So, why couldn't he be such back? He had no reason to feel guilty about being snappish. 

"I'll ask only once more, Mr. Potter, Are we ready to begin?" Something seemed strained in Snape's voice. Harry paid no notice. 

"Yes, (you nasty git), we are entirely ready." Harry's sarcasm would definitely be the reason for the downfall in their teacher student relationship. His defiance was almost forced through him because ever so suddenly he felt lazy to being rotten toward Snape. It just lost its appeal.

"One…Two…. Three" Harry's mind flooded with images of water running across his burning erection. A memory from his morning shower! He had to fight it back…. Snape had already seen enough to make Harry uncomfortable, next would be enough to destroy him. Suddenly, a glowing angel came into sight of Harry and his stomach muscles clenched in shame and embarrassment.

Ron's nude form stood before Harry, in all its glowing glory. The worst part was that Snape was seeing it, and all of it was gone.

Harry found himself on the cold stone floor of Snape's office, looking up at his laughing professor. This was the first time he had seen his teacher even smile, and now he was laughing down at Harry with a growing superiority. 

"I'm glad you find this humorous." Harry's green eyes flamed defiantly as he rose.

"Oh the great Potter is not so immortal after all." Snape's laughing had stopped and the candlelight was flickering from the glowing candelabra rested upon the floor cupboard. As the only light in the room, it helped to let Harry mask his blushing face in the shadows.

"We all have desires, Snape!" Harry's patience was drawing very thin and his humiliation was melting into a blind rage. How dare he laugh at him? "And how dare you laugh at me?"

"Treat me with the respect I deserve Mr. Potter, I am your professor." Snape's cold eyes landed on him as if seeing through his façade down to the vulnerability beneath. 

"You don't deserve respect, you git!" Harry was livid to the point of boiling blood. How dare he act so condescending?

"Embarrassed are we Mr. Potter?" Snape smirked with dignity. Harry couldn't believe he was still standing there. 

Harry didn't answer. He wouldn't give Snape the satisfaction. By now his teeth were clenched so tightly that his jaw muscle was beginning to cramp. He turned to leave with his posture as rigid as he could muster. 

"Potter!" He turned in acknowledgement. "Its people like you who make people like me feel normal."

"Its gits like you who make people like me feel better about themselves." Harry responded nastily.

As he walked down the hall, something dawned on him. How could people like Harry make people like Snape feel normal? Unless….

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Whaddya guys think?

Sorry it took so long, my internet zonked out! Boy was I mad. Well please R&R! thanks for the other reviews guys! I love you all so much **breaks down in happy tears**! Next one coming soon! 


	4. My Advice To You

Author's note: Sorry it took so long to upload the last chapters, not only did my internet go out, bvut I had a softball tournement which we almost won if it hadn't been for the umpires in the last game. Grrr. Here is chapter four of just like your father then…..

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          Harry was unsure whether to attribute his inability to fall asleep to the thunder storm outside, or his complete and utter paranoia.  He was leaning toward the latter as the culprit because every time he would begin to doze his mind would become painted with images of his fellow classmates laughing at him, with Snape in the center. All of them, pointing their amused fingers at him, giggling, chortling, snorting, and getting immense enjoyment out of his little secret.

          The worst image was that of his potions professor, standing arrogantly before him with a glitter of accomplishment in his eyes. 'He's been out to get me since I started here at school' Harry thought as he remembered the first day when Snape had stumped him with questions only Hermione could answer, 'so why wouldn't he use this to destroy my life?'

          His suspicion that Snape had "accidentally mentioned" his homosexuality to someone only increased at breakfast when Lavender and Parvati were giggling and whispering to one another.  His face was a bright red with both anger and embarrassment.

          "Oi Harry, you're as red as Ginny's hair. What's the matter?" Ron looked to Harry, his brow furrowing in mild curiosity.  Harry could feel the burning in his face and realized that he had not even tried to keep his angry shame to himself.

          "Oh nothing Ron, just a bit tired that's all." Ron rolled his eyes as Harry put his fork to his plate and pushed his uneaten eggs around distractedly. If only he had some kind extendable ears to listen to the girls' conversation.

          "Seriously Harry, you're a horrid liar." Said Hermione, from behind a large leather-bound book volume of _The Many Secrets of Truth Potions_.

          "What makes you think that I'm lying, Hermione?" Harry responded nastily. Hermione tipped the book forward slightly, exposing her large cinnamon eyes.

          "Because, you're getting defensive about it." She said in a matter of a fact tone. Ron stopped eating his toast, and pretended to busy himself with clearing the table of crumbs, a habit he had hardly practiced.

          "Am not, besides its none of your business. If something is bothering me, that's exactly it. Its bothering ME!"  Harry had been caught dead and he had just admitted that he had been lying too. His face turned an unsurpassed red, almost to a shade of purple like his Uncle Vernon, although Harry doubted that his blood pressure would ever be high enough to become that flamboyantly colored in the face. 

          "Don't get so angry, both Ron and I were just concerned for you, or would you rather have friends that don't care!" Hermione was trying dreadfully to keep her composure, and fill her argument with more sarcasm than volume. Harry didn't respond which came as a surprise to Ron, because he had hardly ever seen Harry abandon an argument in such an early stage.

          Harry didn't have the time to argue with Hermione, he was much more worried about the fact that the girls were still whispering in the corner. Another thing he had noticed was that Snape had decided not to attend breakfast. He was obviously plotting a way to make Harry's secret public. Maybe he had set up a small interview with that conniving Rita Skeeter. She would love to write an article about Harry's choice of lifestyles. 

          Hermione had decided to remove herself from Harry's company, and Ron seemed dumb to the fact. Harry began to rub his eyes, they were becoming rather sore and itchy from his lack of sleep.

          "Harry…psst." Ron whispered to him. Harry shook his head, what was the point in whispering. "Harry, I've got to tell you something. It's a bit of a secret."

          Harry's eyes widened. Could it be? Was Harry's fantasy going to be shifted into the reality gear? He leaned into Ron, trying to cover up anyway for words to seep out from in between them. 

          "What is it Ron?" Harry whispered back in an almost satisfied voice. Ron Smiled to Harry, and pulled out a small piece of paper that had been folded over several times.

          "You see, well, I have this big crush on…." Harry's heart fluttered a bit. This couldn't be. "Well, on…err….Hermione"

          Harry balloon of happiness deflated with a loud squealing noise, somewhat like flatulence. He watched as Ron unfolded the paper carefully and smoothed it out. It was covered with tons of scratch outs and script writing. "Yes, why are you telling me?' Asked Harry in a tone bordering between disappointment and nastiness.

          "Well, I'm not quite sure how to break it to her. I don't want her to tell me to bugger off, you know?" He nudged Harry with his elbow as if making a joke and at the same time encouraging him to nudge him back playfully. 

          "I don't know what to tell you. What do you want to hear?" Harry seemed detached from the conversation, because again he could hear the whispers and giggles coming from the two girls. Now Ginny had joined in the fun. 'Oh no, her to!' Harry thought. His biggest fan was laughing at him and knew his devastating secret. 

          "It's not what I want to hear, but what do you think Hermione wants to hear?" Ron was still trying, but Harry's ears were straining to hear what Ginny was adding to the little club of giggles over there. 

          "Ron, I really don't care." Harry said absentmindedly and Ron seemed taken aback a bit.  The words were still indiscernible, but Harry strained more to hear them. 

          "When it was my sister Harry, I helped you. You can't just help me a bit now?" Said Ron in an almost offended voice. "I didn't care then, but I still helped you." He added.

          Harry didn't answer, but was borderline ignoring Ron because he was trying to hear what the girls were saying. Ron refolded the paper angrily and jammed it into his robe pocket. Harry tore his attention away from the giggling. Ron's anger had invited itself to his forehead in the form of a crease between his eyebrows. 

          "Some friend you are." Ron mumbled to himself, and Harrys face burned with anger. Didn't Ron know what he was going through right now? He couldn't just lay off for a moment? Harry watched as Ron stood, after a final swig of pumpkin juice. Harry looked up at him, as he jammed his books into his little knapsack.

          "Ron, you really want my advice." Ron swung around angrily and stared at Harry, through narrowed eyes. "Don't bother with Hermione; she'll end up having an affair with a book!"

          Ron's face flashed a bright red color and he turned on his heel and disappeared through the gigantic double doors. Harry had said that in a rash and final attempt to get Ron to lose attraction for Hermione. It wasn't going to work, but it was almost like a final leap of faith for Harry. It was like his last chance, but instead of fixing what was broken, he smashed what was cracked to begin with. 

          After that, the girls' laughter seemed to melt into the crowd and Harry's suspicion of them, turned from suspicion of the entire Great Hall. For the rest of the morning, he sat by himself listening intently to the chatter all around him. Every time he heard laughter, he would shrink with the assumption that it was at his expense. He almost swore, that he could hear his name muffled below the low rumble of other voices, or was it just his imagination?

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          Apparently Snape hadn't said a word, because Malfoy was rather quiet all day. Harry had also made a complete project of staying scarce to both Ron and Hermione. Even so, the classes they shared had been rather quiet because the three just didn't communicate at all. 

          In Mcgonagall's class, Rona and Hermione sat separated from one another, and Harry wasn't sitting close to either of them. Harry was looking around nervously, despite his attempts to assure himself that Snape kept the little secret to himself.

          The nervousness had created a shakiness to his work, and he was unable to even vanish a hair on his rat. He was rather happy though, that instead of Occlumency, he was going to quidditch practice. 

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          Harry had decided to skip lunch to evade another confrontation with Hermione or Ron. He figured that it would be better to spend the free period in the library working on his configuration essay, as opposed to sitting in the loud Great Hall mashed in between two people who would refuse to even pass a pitcher of pumpkin juice. 

          Harry spread his books and materials on the table before peering around the empty room. He sighed with relief when he saw that no one was behind the library counter either.

          The quiet was nice for a change. It gave him a chance to clear his head of all that had happened in the past few days. He stiil was coming to terms with the fact that Snape knew. Suddenly he remembered something.

          "Mr. Potter, its people like you who make people like me feel normal." Harry could hear Snape's voice repeat in the back of his head. He had almost forgotten that.

          Harry's face flared with anger and he clenched his teeth. He understood it now. "Oh, I'm a slimy, greasy, dirty git that never bathes or changes my clothing, but when I see gay people I feel completely normal." Said Harry in a mocking tone, trying his best to imitate Snape. "Oh boy, if Snape could hear me now, I must be completely hitting the nail on the head."

          Harry stopped abruptly, and was almost scared to inspect the noise behind him. It was slight and not heavy footed, followed by a graceful swishing sound.

          "Oh yes, I the greasy slime ball am made feel superior to helpless little faggots. Isn't that what you meant to say Mr. Potter?" Harry's muscles tensed when he recognized Snape's voice from behind him, filled with mild disgust and amusement. 

          "I…I" Harry stumbled, but was cutoff by Snape's condescending tone.

          "You…You…You What?" He mocked and Harry's surprised transformed to anger. "  I think, Mr. Potter, that you are in no position to be criticizing anyone else."

          Harry spun to a stance and faced Snape's brooding eyes, letting the chair slam to the floor and lay sideways. " I hate you you dirty Git!" Harry sneered. "You've told the whole school by now, I'm sure." Harry added before looking at the floor to find where his tear had fallen.

          "Oh for someone so angry as to address me in such a manner, you're going to cry?" Snape seemed entertained by the tears burning in Harry's eyes. His pride had welled up and exploded in the form of water flowing through his eyes. Harry refused eye contact. "It's a sign of weakness Mr. Potter and when facing an enemy you should never admit your weakness. I'm sure the dark lord taught you that, or was it your parents?"

          Harry responded by planting two open palms on His professor's firm chest and pushed with as much power as he could muster. Snape stepped forward, completely overpowering Harry, with his strength. Harry fell backward onto the table, knocking down books and his quills. 

          "Violence is not the answer for you Mr. Potter. It makes me wonder how such a weak child could overpower the dark lord. " Snape proceeded to push Harry's hands above his head. "You really should stop struggling, after all you'll come to find it quite useless."

          Harry stopped fighting against Snape and just panted below his weight. Despite the fact that Snape was threatening his well being, he felt unusually secure and protected. Warmth filled Harry's abdomen, and he titled his head back on the table. Snape released him and stepped backward.

          "Ahh, I knew you'd see it my way." Snape brushed off his robes and turned to the bookshelf to continue his research. Harry lie on the table completely stunned at what had just happened. Anger, confusion, and disgust mingled with one another in his mind, and his brow furrowed before he sat up. (Aww, I was expecting something to happen ;(. Weren't you guys?) 

          Snape's finger ran over the bindings of volumes, and he acted as if Harry wasn't even there and none of this had just happened. It made Harry almost wonder whether or not Snape was all there. He jumped from the table and began picking up what their little shuffle had left strewn about the floor.

          "I said nothing to anyone, Mr. Potter. But I believe that I should have, considering your actions." Snape said as if he was in casual conversation, without making eye contact. Harry stopped and turned to look Snape up and down through squinted eyes.

          "You still had no right to talk about my parents that way." He spat through clenched teeth. Snape seemed not to notice that Harry had even said anything, but swished his black robes to cover the front of his body.

          Harry had finished cleaning his thing from the library floor and shoved them into his book sack.  He stood and straightened out his robes, before attempting to leave.

          "Oh, by the way, you didn't quite hit the nail on the head. This parting seems so awfully cliché." Snape said. Harry stopped short, but kept his back turned. 

          "It does." Mumbled Harry as he continued toward the door. He stopped again when Snape yelled to him.

          "That was solid advice I gave you Potter. Don't ever show your weaknesses, it only causes you more pain. We all wear a façade." 

          Harry continued out the door. Snape heard it slam before he pulled the leather bound volume of potions off the shelf. He opened the old and worn book, shuffling a few pages to the left and then a few to the right.

          "Potions to sexually gratify and induce a non sexual state." He read aloud.

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Author's note: So guys what do you think? Please R&R with your thoughts. I disappointed myself when they didn't do anything. Do you guys think that Snape is OOC? I'm trying my hardest to make them believable and in character, but I wasn't sure that Snape breaking his composure was like him. Please give me your opinion on that too =)! Thnx for reading this. Next chapter coming soon. 

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	5. We All Have Secrets

I would like to apologize for not doing this soon like I had promised. A lot of stuff has happened to me in the past year though and I had to deal with that first. I hope you all understand. Too much softball, too much fun, and too much school work. I mean they think we don't have hobbies or something, ya know. Well you all will be happy to know that I worked out and ending for this story in my notebook, that most of you probably won't care for, but will remember. Here is the next installment; I hope to finish it soon.

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Harry lie awake that night, contemplating all that had happened in the passed few days. His best friends hated him for the moment, so he had no one to confide in. Not that he could tell either of them most of it anyway. It just made his problems sound adequate enough to cause his depressed state. His biggest problem was most definitely his greasy, disgusting; repulsive...he caught himself grinding his teeth to the point of pain again. Really though, Harry hadn't had a truthful reason to hate him lately. Snape had keep his secret safe and pretty much sacrificed his whole asshole way of life to do so. It was incredibly impressive actually.   
  
"Humph!" Harry rolled over with a deeply furrowed brow. He was frustrated. This was the twentieth time today he found himself actually thinking about Snape. Whenever Harry had mentioned Snape's name in public, he would find himself reciting the most awful curses to describe the man, but that was the problem. Harry wasn't quite sure why he did it. His suspicion grew about his own natural feelings. Was he trying to convince himself that Snape was repulsive? Or was he trying to convince everyone around him, who had not an inkling about this inner turmoil? Perhaps, he surmised, it was a bit of both. It was that warm feeling in the depth of his abdomen, on he had never felt before, that triggered all of this. When Snape had pressed him to the table, Harry felt warmer than he had ever felt before.   
  
It was a secret that Harry could naught but grit his teeth at. Him infatuated and lusty for Snape? God it was one pain right after the other. Maybe it would blow over. Harry corrected himself: Hopefully it would blow over.  
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Lucky for Harry he was always disheveled, so there was no notice of his tired and rundown state as he rushed into the great hall for a hasty breakfast before classes started. Hermione sat serenely across the table, and Harry had noticed a lot of the tension between the three of them had blown over. He always liked it better that way, because he was a social coward sometimes and didn't like to discuss painful subjects, not to mention how prideful he was in discussing time when he was wrong. This time he definitely wasn't completely right, because he had been extremely insensitive to the other two's feeling and concerns.   
  
"Harry you look absolutely dreadful!" Hermione's eyebrows lifted in a concerned expression. Harry should have known that Hermione would notice. Ron shifted uncomfortably on his portion of the bench.   
  
"I didn't sleep so well, worried about exams." He figured that relating with Hermione would help to drop the subject, but her eyebrow just rose. She caught him fibbing again. Exams weren't for two months.  
  
"I'm not even worried about them yet, Harry. Really what's wrong?" She said with a tone mixing both suspicion and concern. He had always found it amazing that she could do that. Ron's jaw tightened and he stared at his breakfast like he was trying to scare it. His fists clenched under the table.   
  
"Just haven't felt that well. I've been a bit under the weather." Harry wasn't exactly lying, but he was just close enough to get a pang of guilt.  
  
"Later...If you meet me outside...I could bring you some of the potion I made for that." She said in a almost professional tone before getting up and leaving for her first class of the day.  
  
"Sure" Harry called back softly." After classes."  
  
Harry turned to Ron. "So Ron, what're you up to today?" Ron didn't answer. "Ron?"  
  
"Oh shove off." Ron spat nastily as he rose and walked from the table angrily. Harry was taken aback, and humored at the same time. Ron was jealous!  
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Snape's heart sank as he drank his morning tea and looked through his picture album. With every photo it fell deeper. Most of them were from an era Snape barely remembered. A time long gone. A time when Severus was best friends with the senior Potter. Pictures of a magical summer when He had been a mere fourteen and in love with Harry's father. A time he would have liked to keep frozen on memory. His childlike innocence was reflected in the smiling while his hands were buried deep in sand. James used his wand to build towers.   
  
Standing tall and beautiful, James and his brilliant mind that was oblivious to Severus's love. He smirked. Not for the ignorance of his friend at that time, but for his own childish blindness. He could not see that Potter would never love him back; at least not in the way he had dreamt of. Yet his love had endured all of these years an all of the torment accompanying them. Snape snapped the album shut (Say that one 10 times fast!).  
  
He had finished his tea and classes were beginning momentarily. He hid the book on a secret shelf in the back of his fire place and sauntered to class.   
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By afternoon Harry had surmised a plan to make all well again in their volatile circle of friends. He would send Hermione flowers with a note signed anonymous, in Ron's handwriting. The note would invite her to a Butterbeer date, on the next Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione would recognize the handwriting, undoubtedly. It was a near perfect plan.   
  
He would have to put it on hold though, because tonight he had Occculmency, which had already begun to dampen his spirits.   
  
Please R&R I am begging you guys...


	6. Sweet memories

Wow, its been a while. That's what college will do to ya tho.

_Sweet Memories_

"_You leave him alone! JAMES!" Lily cried as she balled her hands into fists and stood stubbornly before James-who was waving a want about in the air. "LEAVE.HIM.ALONE!" She stomped her foot and tightened her jaw. "You're being nothing but cruel JAMES!"_

"_Oh Lily, I'm just having a bit of fun. That's all." Their friends encircled the couple and laughed relentlessly at the greasy haired teen that was suspended in air. "Potions can't help you up there can they?" James teased, his green eyes glimmering with delight._

_Severus thrashed about in the air angrily. His usually pallid face was glowing red with humiliation. He feared that james would disclose the REAL reason for this showdown. _

"_PUT HIM DOWN!" Thundered Lilly. She seemed to be the only one with any compassion. Her dark hair glittered in the wind, contrasting her standoffish and rigid body. "Stop it please, James. He doesn't deserve it."_

"_You're right. The greasy pervert deserves worse." James flicked his wand and tumbled Severus about in the air. Severus continued his embarrassed silence. _

"_Yeah, I heard he writes some amazing love letters" one of the boys from the group of onlookers yelled. All the others sniggered. "Yeah, maybe Lilly got one. She seems to like him!" another yelled. The girls began to giggle and cover their faces. Lilly reddened._

"_You put him down now, James. Or I will turn you into the toad you are acting like!" She withdrew her wand and pointed it at him. Everyone gasped. They were aware that she was the best transfigurer in the whole school. James froze and slowly lowered his wand, backing himself against the giant oak tree. James smirked and in the next second a deafening thud was heard, and the laughter began again. _

_Severus rolled around like a confused animal until he regained normal thought and then he rose to his normally dignified pose. Everyone laughed even harder. He was standing like a king, yet his hair was filled with leaves and his black robes were covered in dirt and grass. Lilly turned and laughed in spite of her self. _

_Everyone saw him fighting the humiliation, but no one ever saw him fighting the tears. No one ever saw him fighting himself either. He turned on his heel and began to walk rigidly away. From now on, he would keep a tighter lid on his feelings- from now on they would be sweet memories._

I know its short, but its for dramatic effect. Please R&R.


	7. Into The Darkness

Tidbit: wow I'm such an asshole. I haven't updated this story in like a year and a half. Sorry, I just lost interest. I promise however, that I will finish it because I just spent a couple hours mapping out where I want it to go. So, here is the latest chapter. Enjoy!

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Hermione patted her hair flat nervously and looked around. She wished she could just ask someone how her hair looked because she was getting the same answer from herself over and over again. 'It's absolutely dreadful.'

She tried to let her mind travel to more important question. She wondered why Ron thought that she wouldn't recognize his handwriting. Her heart jumped into her throat! Maybe this was a trap by someone evil. After all, Harry was complaining about his scar burning and she just finished reading about something called mimic quills that would copy anyone's handwriting with ease.

Her serious fears eased when she saw a thick head of rich red hair bouncing through the throngs of other students. 'Duh' she thought to herself 'who would stage such an evil scene in a guarded and crowded place.' She tried half-heartedly to smooth her hair once again.

"Hey," Ron said with a nervous smile. Hermione always felt that his awkwardness was adorable as she told Harry on many occasions. "Some Butterbeer?" Ron asked her nervously as he swung his right arm from behind his back to reveal two bottles.

"Absolutely," Hermione said as she put her hand out. "Sit," she commanded softly.

"Your hair looks beautiful," said Ron. Hermione smiled confidently and Ron glowed. Finally, He had done something right with her! He'd have to thank Harry for the advice when he got back to the room later.

In the warm glow of the tavern the two talked for hours over several butter beers. Harry watched them leave holding hands and smiled triumphantly.

Harry wandered through the dungeons to get to Snape's room. It was nearly eight O'clock and these deep hallways were empty. He couldn't help but rub the scar on his forehead. Lately it had been giving him a real problem.

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As Harry approached the classroom, he could hear the urgent scratching of a quill. All of his hopes that Snape wouldn't be there quickly faded into nothingness. That urgency and rigidity of quill was one of Snape's trademarks.

Harry turned into the classroom and walked down the narrow isle between the black tables. When he reached the front of the classroom he set his bag on the very first table and adjusted it so that it wouldn't slide off.

The pen scratching stopped abruptly with the sound of quill falling to paper. Harry looked up in time to see Snape shake his right had and rub the inside of his wrist urgently. Harry froze and lowered his hand from his forehead. Snape looked up at him with those piercing black eyes.

"Potter," he managed weakly, "does it hurt?"

"N-n-no." Harry stammered. He knew exactly what Snape was talking about. Snape's left hand stayed fixed to the inside of his right wrist. Snape's body rocked slightly back and forth. And Harry stood silently amazed that someone with such a famous reserve would be so affected by slight pain.

"Why are you lying to me Potter!?" Snape snapped at him and then panted as if it took a great stress. "Does it hurt you?" Snape was stern and firm.

"Yes. It hurts." Harry was short intentionally and tried his hardest to burn back Snape's stare much like he would fight back the blue light during lesson. The energy in the room was thick and uneasy.

"Potter, there will be no lessons tonight. Meet me here tomorrow night." Harry heart skipped a beat. Snape was worried and winded. What could be affecting him this much. Harry wanted to help somehow. To ease those pains in Snape out of shear human sympathy. He hoped. Harry hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and stepped closer to Snape's desk. Snape looked up at him almost helplessly. The worry was making his face grimace.

Snape exposed his wrist to Harry and Harry reached for it. His fingers barely grazed the glowing dark mark when Snape pulled his hand away. Harry looked at the ground, slightly defeated. He turned and quickly strode toward the door and was stopped by Snape's voice.

"Start packing your things, the school is going to be closed." Harry didn't turn to face him, but he could hear the fear in his voice and when someone like Snape was scared, everyone else around him needed to be terrified.

Three days later news came to the school over the lunch hall that Dumbeldore was found dead in a cave somewhere on the northern shore of Ireland and Professor Snape was missing from the school grounds. A skull cloud hovered over the cave and Snape's office had been destroyed. The students were advised to pack their things. McGonagall made the announcement somberly and stiffly.

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she started to shake. Neither of them believed Harry when he said something several days earlier.

"Its about to get much worse," Harry promised Hermione and Ron who were both crying. Just then McGonagall grabbed Harry's robe collar and led him out of the great hall.

Harry was now a commodity to be protected and the whole staff was moving into position. Harry's mind swirled with thoughts of Snape being tortured. His eyes began to tear as McGonagall dragged him through the hallways silently.

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It's getting pretty dark, huh?


	8. Plotting

Hey guys I just want you all to know that I thank you for the hundreds of hits you've put on this story. This chappy is a little longer than the rest….welll..err alotta bit longer than the rest. Enjoy!

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"Potter you are to remain in the care of the order now. DO you hear me Potter?!" McGonagall lectured him sternly complete with finger waving. Harry nodded absentmindedly. He wasn't worried for his own safety.

He was going to be separated from Ron and Hermione, who would be in as much danger as he was at the moment. They were his friends after all. The one's he could trust beyond measure. Why hadn't he seen that when he was harboring the biggest secret of his life. Little did he know, another giant secret was creeping to the top of the pile, and soon he would have to tell them that too.

Snape was his most hated rival just two weeks ago. Now Harry had a new respect for the man who had suffered so badly for the same reasons he was. Snape had also kept his secret. Kept it to himself! To think of that made Harry feel that Snape didn't want him destroyed. When he met with him the day after the incident he told Harry a lot of things that he didn't know. Things about being in love with his father and joining the death eaters with a promise to gain love in return. This was the first point in time when Harry didn't respect the person his father was. That romantic notion that James was a hero was all in his head and it hurt.

"Potter!" McGonagall thundered at him. Why couldn't she just leave him alone now to think? He understood now that he was going to be sent with the Order and that he was going to have to do more hiding than fighting.

"Yes, I understand. I'll be leaving on a train." She straightened her robes and walked from the room to leave Harry all alone. Lucky for Harry, he had the most important roll of parchment in existence in his robe pocket. He anticipated all of this happening. He didn't want to be under someone's care like an object. Harry was a front line fighter and everyone knew that. He didn't need or want their protection.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He tapped the parchment lightly and the map appeared. All the students were shuffling into their dormitories and packing their things, except two lone ink dots just, labeled Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, around the hallway from the room he was in. He knew they wouldn't just follow directions and leave him to be taken away to wherever they were going to bring him.

Quickly he scanned the school grounds looking for another little ink dot. It wasn't there and Harry's brow furrowed. Who would have kidnapped, or been able to kidnap, Snape?

"No more thinking" he mumbled to himself. He rolled the parchment up and tucked it safely next to his wand. It was time to get the bloody hell out of here. He rose and scurried across the room to put his ear up to the door. He didn't hear anyone outside of it so he slowly twisted the handle and pushed the door open. The hallway was empty.

"Hermione….Ron," he whispered into the air. There was no answer so he turned the corner where the map had said they were.

Again he whispered to something he didn't see. "Where in the bloody hell are you," he asked again. Suddenly they appeared in the flash of a cape with glowing red faces. Harry shook his head, "This is no time for snogging!"

"We weren't snogging Harry!" Hermione said playfully.

"Oi…we just made old McGonagall fall on her arse!" Laughed Ron. They must have been red from trying not to laugh while the professor was around.

"That's all fine, but we need to get the hell out of here." Harry said sternly. They could hear footsteps coming up the opposite hallway in large clanks. As quietly as possible they began running down the hallway they were in. They passed the Great Hall and flew downstairs into the dungeons.

"Where are we going Harry?" questioned Hermione nervously. When they got down into the abandoned looking dungeons, Harry finally turned to explain himself.

"I just need to get one more thing." He said and he turned into Snape's destroyed classroom. Hermione and Ron both stood with their mouths gaping when Harry lifted a wand from the floor of Snape's destroyed classroom.

"What are you doing with that," Ron asked suspiciously. Harry tucked it away into his breast pocket. He knew that the two thought that Snape might be responsible for killing Dumbeldore. The room was a bloody mess though. Cauldrons everywhere.

"Returning it to someone who probably needs it very badly right now," Harry told them. Both of them grimaced in disbelief. He would explain later and he darted passed them into the hallway again. They reluctantly followed with a trust that couldn't be broken. Harry wasn't going at this alone.

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Snape awoke, chained to a wall and stripped of clothing. His wand was gone and so was everything that he could use to escape. He damned himself for making such weak charms on his robe. He had all sorts of things hidden in it, including a backup wand that would have made up for the one that was thrown on the floor of his classroom during the struggle.

He had nothing. Not even his dignity. And he was chained to a god damn wall in a filthy dungeon, with no clothes on. Honestly, he hoped that no one would find him until he turned into bones. He wasn't even worried about dying. Besides, who would come for him anyway? Everyone probably assumed that he was to blame for Dumbeldore's death because he was abducted shortly after. SO, his name was slandered too.

Potter probably thought that too. Somewhere deep inside Severus winced. To be hated like that probably meant that he had already told those friends of his, Severus had confided in him. It wasn't only the embarrassment that made Severus tighten. It was the thought that Potter might hate him now. It hurt to think that the son of James would hate him now. The choice that James made would now hate the choice that he didn't.

For the first time in over fifteen years, broken and nude, Severus cried for himself.

It felt like a giant weight had lifted off Harry's chest. He told Hermione and Ron everything. They took it better than he had thought they would. He apologized for keeping such a secret. To his shock, Ron wasn't even in the least disgusted. He actually seemed flattered.

"Oi Harry is that all that you've been worried about," Ron said as he flipped through the latest edition of the daily prophet. They had been back at the burrow for days. Just the three of them were there. When the arrived the house was empty and it's usual messy self. "Mum always cleans before she leaves on such a long trip."

Ron was becoming increasingly alarmed at the absence of his family. Hermione had been silent the whole three days. She was plotting and Harry could see it. She had figured out that they were keeping Snape in a pub the next town over because the death eaters had assumed that Harry and the order would return to the burrow. The three of them had been laying low and were very aware of the continual scouts being sent from the area.

Harry suggested plotting a daring escape and Hemrione shook her head. "every detail has to be in place Harry or we will get killed."

Harry understood that, but he was growing very nervous by the day. Snape could be killed right now or dead already. He needed to save him and get him away from the death eaters to prove, mostly to himself, that Snape was innocent.

"Can you make anything into a port key," He asked Hermione. She nodded and curiously raised her smooth brown eyebrow. Harry's eyes darted around the room until he found a roll of tin foil. He got up and grabbed it. "Even this?" He asked her. Again she nodded with a piqued curiosity.

"What are you getting at Harry," asked Ron suspiciously. Hermione just smiled. She knew exactly what Harry was getting at. Harry crumpled a piece of the shiny silver paper into a ball and raised it to Hermione. Again she nodded as if to say 'yes, that can be a port key too.'

"Lets turn a piece of real rubbish into one." Harry said smiling. "I can trudge in there and demand that I see Snape. Then, I could fake a spell to get us out of there even though we would really be using the key."

"Are you sure they wouldn't notice?" Hermione said "It's not like they aren't aware of what a port key is."

"Yeah, but if I could distract them long enough with some fancy wand waving." Harry defended himself. Hermione agreed that it could work and that it was the best chance they had. Ron was still catching up.

This was the plan. The best one they had on such short notice. It had to work. Right?

PLEase read and review.


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